Lights
by romancerevival
Summary: After everyone leaves, Elena depends on Damon - but often he can't be found when she needs him most. Then he'll appear, and everything seems alright again - as only Damon can make it seem. Holiday two-parter.
1. Part 1

**So…long time, no see. Sorry I've been gone so long, I really am, but I've almost literally been up to my ears in work. Free time is a myth to me these days. Also, my inspiration completely burned out. When the show gives you almost everything you want, it's harder to invent your own stories, because that's what I think fan fiction is for – unfulfilled wishes. And I must say, this season, most of mine have been fulfilled (except for waking Elijah, *****cough cough*). I hate to leave my other story unfinished, but I can't really pick it up again unless I get more time and inspiration for it. But I do have a few new ideas floating around in my head that I hope to get written down soon. Anyways, Holiday two-parter coming right up! I know I'm a little late for Christmas, but part 2 is New Year's, and I'll definitely have it up on time. Happy Reading! (I hope)**

… … …

Elena stumbled through the dark, musty attic, searching for the box full of fake garlands, wreaths, and red bows. She squinted into the rising dust, trying to read the faded labels on each box – labels that her mother had written over a decade ago. She felt the cool grit of dust coat her hands as she snatched up the box she needed and coughed dryly as she picked her way back across the rafters and down the retractable wooden ladder.

She wasn't sure why she was doing this; decorating the house had always been a family affair. Her mother had always arranged imitation greenery over every mantle with the utmost care, while her father had always made a big show of dragging in a real tree every year. Hell, even Jeremy had loved to decorate gingerbread houses when he was little.

But now, Elena was alone in the house, the old festivities merely echoes bouncing across the cool walls – echoes of a happier, simpler time. She didn't even have sullen Jeremy around to help her now; he couldn't seem to get over the whole Bonnie/Anna fiasco, and he'd cut town a few weeks before. Alaric had managed to convince her to give him some time – assured her that he'd come back soon enough. But after two weeks with no sign of the kid, even Alaric began to worry. Jeremy hadn't answered his phone, and Alaric had finally driven off to look for him three days before. Elena realized there wasn't really a point in her sprucing up the house; she'd be the only one seeing it, and she wasn't exactly chipper these days as it was. Even so, there was something disturbing about walking around a house two days before Christmas that didn't show a single sign of holiday cheer (plus, if Caroline managed to drop by and find the house that way, Elena would never hear the end of it).

Elena set the box down in the middle of the living room floor, not really caring that a little cloud of dust rose and settled into the rug. She yanked the cardboard flaps open and pulled the crackly old garland out, wrapping it around her arm and clearing off the mantle with the other. She tried to smooth out the kinks in the old greenery, but in the end just left it to snake across the smooth white wood above the fireplace. Dusting off her hands, she stood back to admire her handiwork before returning to the box for some of the red velvet bows. She twisted their worn golden ties around every other rung supporting the banister on the stairs, and wove another, longer garland around the handrail, setting off the bows nicely (in her humble opinion).

She trudged back down the stairs, turning at the bottom to criticize her work. It wasn't much, and it certainly didn't help her along in the way of holiday cheer, but it was enough for now. She was too tired to do anything more. It didn't really take much to wear her out these days, and she resented the fact; she wasn't fragile. She didn't have the leisure to be fragile anymore. If only – if only Damon had come to help. She technically shouldn't have expected him to show up; she didn't call to ask. But usually, she didn't need to. Damon was always there when she needed him (for the most part, anyways – she chose to overlook the fateful senior prank night). But he wasn't there now; come to think of it, he'd been absent more than usual as of late. She had no idea what he could be doing, either – they'd decided to let Stefan go, Klaus was nowhere to be seen, and even Rebekah was still facedown on the floor of the Salvatore's basement. Surely Damon had to have a reason for his disappearance. A reason tugged at the edges of Elena's mind, and she shook her head as if to clear the mental fog, but it was no use. She was too tired to think. She was just going to sleep it off – maybe she'd remember in the morning.

… … …

Elena rummaged through her sock drawer, trying to find her misplaced toboggan. It was snowing outside – a white Christmas Eve – and the sun had already gone down. It was time for the annual Mystic Falls Christmas Eve luminary stroll. Elena and her family had been doing it for as long as she could remember. Almost everyone in Mystic Falls lined the closed streets carrying candles and singing carols as they walked together. It was the first year Elena would be going alone; she would've skipped it entirely if not for the incessant badgering from Bonnie and Caroline. She was tired of putting on a brave face, and she thought one more night of festivities might just do her in, but it was Christmas Eve – and she couldn't turn her best friends down.

She gave up on the toboggan and settled for her favorite maroon and navy plaid scarf, tossing it around her neck while shoving her toes into some old boots. She shrugged into a knee-length coat before stepping onto the porch and slamming the door behind her, not even bothering to lock it. All of the townspeople would be at the luminary stroll, and in the off chance that a new vampire came in to town and wanted to kill her, she wouldn't be home, and they couldn't get past the door frame.

She'd made it all the way down her street and around the corner before she realized she'd forgotten her candle. She rolled her eyes at herself, but did not return to fetch one; people always had extras. Surely enough, a few minutes later, an eager freshman from school bounced over and offered Elena a short white candlestick, even lighting it for her while gossiping on mindlessly. Elena nodded in thanks and was off, hoping to god she was never that annoying.

Plodding along at a tired pace, she scanned the half-singing, half-chattering crowd for her friends, but saw no sign of them (somewhat to her relief). She found herself near the back of the group, but she didn't really mind; socializing wasn't really one of her strong points these days. She sighed deeply, watching her breath puff out visibly in front of her.

"You know, at that speed, you might finish the route by New Year's," a voice quipped from behind her, stopping her dead in her tracks.

Damon.

"Sorry I'm not blessed with supernatural speed like you are, asshole!" she snapped back, feeling some life seep back into her veins.

Damon suddenly materialized in front of her, his palms up in defense. "Hey, I'm not complaining," he remarked, walking backwards to face her as she began moving forward again.

"Where the hell have you been lately, anyways?" She asked, somehow simultaneously upset and relieved at the sight of him.

"You know where, Elena," he said somberly, his face falling into seriousness.

"Well if you expect me to remember, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," she huffed, her nose growing icy.

"It doesn't matter now," he muttered, shaking his head. Elena closed her eyes against the falling snow, confusion cluttering her brain, her teeth rattling involuntarily. Damon stopped moving, nearly causing a full-on collision. "You're freezing," he noted, concern etching his features as he held his hands to either side of her face. She shuddered at his soft touch, hit with a surprising pang when she realized how much she missed having him around every day (and most nights). Why couldn't she remember where he's been?

He pulled her worn scarf up so that it covered her head, blocking some of the wind from her face. His eyes never left hers as he did so, and she felt warmer than she should. His fingers laced though her disheveled hair, tugging it through the scarf, his knuckles brushing her collarbone.

"I look like I should be riding a donkey to Bethlehem now," she complained, a wry grin working its way to her lips. Damon rolled his eyes.

"And here I was, thinking you were actually one of those girls that cared about something besides her looks. Come to think of it, you do seem to be letting yourself go a bit. I mean, those boots? What are you, an ex-marine?" Damon gave her a salute, and she batted his hand down, trying to look annoyed.

"Why'd you decide to show up tonight, anyways? You don't exactly have a great history with town events," Elena reminded him, thinking back to the horrible founder's events of days past.

"No one really does, if you think about it." Elena nodded in acquiescence. "Actually, I just came to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked, rocking back and forth on her toes.

"Merry Christmas," he said casually, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to her cool cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning in and taking an aching comfort in his nearness. Her stomach hollowed out when he pulled away, his eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" she asked, somewhat alarmed at his bewildered, solemn expression.

"Nothing," he murmured, grimacing and glancing down. "You should really watch the candle, you know. Don't want the wax to burn your hands." She looked up, lost by the abrupt change in his demeanor.

He was gone.

She looked around, twisting back, hoping to find him laughing behind her, but he was nowhere to be seen; he'd left her as quickly as he'd appeared. She bit her lip as her throat suddenly constricted, her eyes mysteriously stinging. Her head dropped in defeat, and she noticed that her candle had been snuffed out, the light burning no more.

… … …

**To be continued…**

**Please be so kind and leave a review, I'd appreciate it very much!**


	2. Part 2

**Part 2, coming right up! Thank you so much to all of you who left reviews, you mean a great deal! It's hard to continue writing if you know that no one is reading. I tried to reply to all of you, but for some reason my review reply won't work. I wasn't too pleased about that. Oh, and less than a week until new episodes! I think I've read so many teases and spoilers that I'm about to burst with curiosity. Well, off we go then! **

… … …

Elena stepped outside onto the patio, her shoulders sagging in relief at the gust of fresh, cold air. She'd been at the Grill for only an hour, and she was already sick of the crowded, stifling atmosphere inside. She wasn't really thrilled about spending her new year's eve with a hoard of giddy, drunken townspeople, but there really wasn't anywhere else to be. And, she didn't want to miss Damon in the off chance that he might stop by.

But it was already 10 o'clock, and she was exhausted and beginning to lose hope. She sank into one of the wrought iron chairs, pulling her coat closer to her body as the icy wind picked up, making her eyes smart.

She hadn't seen Damon since Christmas Eve, and she was beginning to worry. She'd driven over to the boarding house a few days ago only to find it empty, Damon's Camaro still parked in the garage. She had no idea where he'd been getting off to, and his absence was starting to take its toll. She didn't have many people left that were close to her, and she wasn't about to lose him too.

She sighed, tiredly lifting her chin up to look around. She gasped when she saw Damon sitting across from her, his gaze unreadable.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up," she said breathlessly, twisting her hands in her lap.

"Well, here I am," he smirked, crossing his arms, his face readjusting to an expression of nonchalance.

"For once," she grumbled, shooting him a sulky glance.

His face immediately fell. "Elena, come on. You know why I can't be there. Remember?"

"Like I said before, no, I don't! I honestly don't know what you're talking about." She huffed, looking away.

"There's no use in arguing," he tried to soothe her, a pleading note in his voice.

Elena stood up, moving to the railing that blocked off the patio. She stared off into the night, wrapping her freezing fingers tightly around the rail. Only a few seconds later, she felt strong, leather-clad arms wrapping around her middle from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and at his touch, tears sprang involuntarily to her eyes. She tried to repress the accompanying sob from escaping her lips, and a pathetic whimper issued from her throat instead. His arms pulled her even closer to him, cradling her like the breakable creature he knew her to be.

"I'm so sorry, Elena," he said softly in her ear. "The world never seems to cut you any slack, and I hate it for that."

At his velvety voice, Elena leaned back, her shoulder blades resting against his chest. She blinked, and the tears fell, making shiny tracks down her cheeks.

"Promise you won't leave," she blurted in a whisper, desperation tugging at the edges of her voice. "Everyone always leaves – not you, too. I can't handle that, Damon, please don't make me!"

He slowly turned her around, his hands leaving her sides to grasp her icy fingers. Their faces were inches apart, and she could see the conflict raging in his eyes. His brows drew together, his lips drawn.

"I won't leave you," he finally promised, unlacing one of his hands from hers to bring it against the side of her face. "I'll be right here." His thumb ran over her cheek, brushing a tear away. "You ask, I come, remember?" he said, a sad, crooked smile gracing his lips.

"You're easy like that," she quoted, a tiny quirk tugging at her own lips. He pulled her closer to him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, just as she had all those months ago, that night outside the tomb, when it was his heart that was breaking. He stroked her hair, his chin resting atop her head. They stayed that way for what could've been minutes or hours; neither knew nor cared.

Elena was startled by the ringing of the bell attached to the Grill's front door, which jingled cheerily, strangely offsetting the mood. Damon's arms suddenly disappeared, and Elena found herself standing alone. She swayed on her feet, reeling. She whipped around, looking up and down the abandoned sidewalk, her eyes darting frantically.

"Elena?" Bonnie called, her footsteps growing nearer. "Were you talking to someone? …Who are you looking for?"

"It was Damon – he was just here, I swear! Did you see him take off?" Elena looked up and down the street again, her forehead wrinkling.

"Oh, no," Bonnie whispered in alarm, burying her face in her hands. She looked up with wild eyes, steeling herself as she joined Elena at the rail.

"Elena. Elena, look at me." Elena turned abruptly to face her friend, alarmed at her tone.

"What is it? Can it wait? I have to go look for Damon-"

"You won't find him," Bonnie said forlornly, biting her bottom lip.

"What do you mean?" Elena asked slowly, her heart skipping erratically.

"He's gone."

Elena shook her head vehemently. "No, he's not. He just promised me he wouldn't leave. He's not gone, Bonnie."

Bonnie blinked hard, swallowing loudly. "Yes, he is Elena. He's not going to come back."

"Why wouldn't he? He promised." Elena crossed her arms petulantly, resembling a frightened child.

"He's dead, Elena."

The words rang in Elena's ears, pounding in her brain.

"No, he's not. He's immortal, remember?"

Bonnie sighed, taking hold of Elena's shoulder. "I've heard that it's normal that when someone loses a…a loved one, that they often think they see them, or have hallucinations about them as a way of coping with the shock and the grief-"

Bonnie's voice faded as memories flashed in front of Elena's eyes: Anxiously waiting for news while everyone else was at homecoming; her shock when she found Katherine at her doorstep, actually looking sad for once; Katherine telling her that Damon had successfully staked Klaus, and that…and that it had killed Damon too…

"I remember," Elena gasped, unable to catch her breath, the realization slamming into her like a train. The tears started up again, stronger than before.

"Elena," Bonnie said quietly, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry." Elena remembered that Damon had spoken the same words just minutes ago, and she began to sob – strangled, body-racking sobs.

"He's not coming back," she choked out, salty tears wetting her lips. "He's not coming back. He promised!" She suddenly screamed, doubling over. "He promised he wouldn't leave, he did! I heard him! He promised!" Her voice cracked, and she sank to her knees, scraping them against the concrete. Bonnie sank down beside her, wrapping her arms tightly around her shoulders and rocking her back and forth, making shushing noises.

"It's gonna be okay, Elena, I promise," she whispered into her hair, rubbing her back.

"No it's not," Elena cried in a low, thick voice. "No, it's not. Da – _he's _gone. It can never be okay." She could never be okay. There was no more world, if there was no more Damon. He was gone now; he was just another ghost. And yet somehow, she knew she had to go on. She had to go on, knowing that she never told him – that she loved him too.

… … …

**Well, there you have it. I know it turned out to be pretty dark, but I've never really written a major character death before, and I wanted to try my hand at it. Plus, I've always wanted to write a piece where Elena was the only one that saw Damon – because she wanted to, even after he was gone. Sorry for such depressing stuff around the holidays, but I'm planning a full-blown story next up, one involving more characters, and Klaus forcing Elena to make a choice. Sorry if there are a lot of mistakes in this, it's very late and I have no beta. Happy New Year to you all, and please be kind and drop me a line before you go!**


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